Christmas Spectacular

Christmas time is full of magic, wonder, and amazement. One of our most favorite times of the year. If I had to guess, it's probably one of the most talked about topic on this blog. I mean other than moving and straight up crazy things that only happen to us.

This year was important & unique. Important because the girls are strong with their belief and it was baby boy's first Christmas. Unique because Thanksgiving was late & shortly after the big day we were jetting off for a vacation. This is important to note because the pressure to start Christmas came on strong the very weekend after Thanksgiving.  While there was still turkey leftovers to be had - it was a tree that was top of mind. The first day we could, we were off to find a tree. We found a tree, but I thought it was too small. I like a big tree. We have 6 million ornaments and enough space to get a big full tree. This particular tree? While it looked perfect, looked short to me. But my husband felt strongly it was big enough. The guy on the tree lot? Also spent time convincing me that the tree was big enough. Both tried to convince me of our ceiling height, neither having ever measured the actual height of the ceiling. I agreed, I knew better, but I agreed.  We got adorable pictures. And maybe it was a success...

We got the tree home, cut off the netting and as it fanned out we quickly realized I was right. More accurately the ball & chain was wrong. And I'll be honest with you, this wasn't my finest moment. Queue: adult sized temper tantrum. I knew I was right. We weren't going to be able to use half of our ornaments, how will we choose? I can't believe how wrong he was? Why did you fight so hard for something wrong?

Christmas time is full of magic, wonder and amazement. And apparently throwing a plastic water container clear across the house.

We took a gamble. Next time measuring - and wouldn't you know? The tree stand took the tree back. And the magic was back...

Until it wasn't. And the tree we got was too big. We didn't have enough lights. And those that we did have? Half went out.

Maybe you'd think - this is the end of the story. And maybe this is the first post you've ever read here. I went on to trip the tree, create several holiday displays throughout the house. 

 And finally, it was Christmas time. It was full of magic, wonder and amazement.

Until it wasn't. 

The bigger they are. The harder they fall. 

We lost a lot. But we gained a new tree stand. Which required a bit more tree trimming. 

Do your lights hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? They do when you have to further cut the tree to fit in the new stand. You know. So it stops toppling over.

 And finally, it was Christmas time. It was full of crooked magic, wonder and amazement.

I gave the kid $10 for a field trip. Told her to bring back change. She brought back 7 cents.

She used most of her/my money to get me a Christmas present. The rest? A mood ring. Because of course. This morning I opened an ornament. "in memory of this year! So we remember how the tree fell on you." It's a glass one. Like most that we lost. And she is the best. The end. 

Until it was over.

... and to all a good night!

Why I hate moving. Epilogue

Epilogue:

• After 2 or 3 (I honestly can't remember at this point) attempts, the water line to my beloved ice machine, works (however slowly). During the process of getting it fixed, the first time - when water was pouring all over my basement the following things happened:
• I called in 3x because the first time, I was dropped into a voice mail box I have no idea who it was. I left a weird message that went a little like, "Hi, my name is XYZ and I don't know who you are because of the terrible customer service representative I just spoke with. I live at ABC and this morning a water line was installed which is now spraying all over my basement. And when I say spraying, it sounds like a little sprinkle but there is a monsoon happening in my basement I can't get it to stop and someone needed to get here ASAP."  The second time, I was outraged and may or may not have been screaming like a lunatic and one point said something like, "SAVE your apologies. I don't want to hear SORRY, I want to hear that someone will get here because at the rate the water is coming down my entire inventory of storage will be ruined." To which the "customer service representative" said I could fill out a claims form, if that happened. TO which I said, "Are you f'ing kidding me?" And I didn't say "f'ing" and I promptly got hung up on. The third time I called in I was eerily calm, was put on hold and while on hold someone called me back - must have been from the first message I left. I'm not sure, I don't care. 
• Interesting fact? Sears never did survey me on my experience. Spoiler alert: terrible.
  
  
• The Internet was eventually fixed, after 3 or 4 attempts (I honestly can't remember at this point). I've had a decreased of solicitation calls, because I went cray cray and was provided a new number that they can't guarantee will stay off a radar, because I don't want to pay for a private number but it's better.  To say I was a crazy lady with them? Understatement.
• A "fun" exchange during my rampages phone calls to these "customer service representatives" (see also: TERRIBLE) included this gem. I was calling in to report that my Internet was indeed out, again. I explained for the who knows how many time all the back and forth, people coming out, waiting for days, etc. I explained that I had been a satisfied customer for long than I had been a customer receiving service and wanted to know the process for canceling at this point. I explained I worked from home and not having Internet is negatively impacting my day. While the over done apologies do nothing for me, I suppose I would prefer that over this person's response: "Well. Does your television work though?" My response? "I do NOT know. I don't get paid to watch TV, so right now I'm at my computer trying to do my JOB. Perhaps you'd like to try doing the same?"
  
• Disclaimer: Having worked in customer service I do my best to be the better part of some one's day. I am (usually) kind, understanding, sympathetic. I try to make a joke where I can. That said: provide terrible customer service? Step aside, shit is about to get real.
  
  
  
• I'm not quite sure how I avoided an aneurysm or ulcer based on U-verse and Sears. I suppose there is a point in the "win" column somewhere in there. Seriously, top 5 worst customer service.
  
  
• I got a mirror for the driveway, one that you can see on both sides to avoid crashing into the porch. My husband thought I was being silly for buying such a thing (such things are not cheap). I used it every day and it has saved my car from damage... until he recently backed into it and broke in a million pieces. Ah 7 years of bad luck, like that's what we need. I mention this, because I would just like to point out, for the record: while I notoriously have a terrible sense of depth and if anyone is going to swipe a car or back into something - you would have thought me. I'd like the record to show: the ball & chain has been the one, the ONLY ONE, playing bumper cars in the driveway. He makes fun of me for being all nervous about it, careful, slow, etc- but guess who hasn't cracked up anything in our driveway? This girl, right here.
  
  
  
• Eventually they found our overflow truck. It arrived the day that our flight was booked for a trip to the Northeast to attend a wedding. His suit and my dress (and shoes) were somewhere in one of the 30 boxes delivered. I found them. It was a Christmas Miracle. 

30 boxes in the overflow truck. 3 items needed to be found for flight in 3 hours.
The "best" & most successful game of "needle in a hay stack" ever played.

We've been here, at the time I'll (finally) publish this post for 3 months. We are getting settled, pictures are being put up, boxes are disappearing one by one. We're getting there. We have a few visitors planned. It's coming together. Don't tell the kid though, because she feels it too and I try to say I don't - but the truth is? I miss STL. I'm looking forward to when that wears out and things start to feel all wonderful here, but I don't know. 3 months in, I'm starting to think it won't happen. I don't hate it here, it's just not the same.  It's probably why I haven't had much to say here. I'm in this now not so secret hole of mourning, still. But I'm going to dust myself off and try to move past it, because we are here and it's time to start enjoying it and finding the love - and stop comparing it all to what we've lost. It sounds so dramatic, I know - but that's because it feels dramatic. Sigh. But hopefully? With the holidays (and I'm obviously talking about Halloween) coming up fast & furious it's just a matter of time where I will be smacking you over the head with cuteness. Because for real? It's what we do.

Why I hate moving. Part II

Week of September 19th – Move IN week

The after week one, there was another week of hell moving. Let's just start with day one, shall we? 

1. Ohio has readily available Dunkin Donuts. The Target I had put in the GPS I drove to doesn't exist. It started out, Ohio - 1, me - 1
2. Despite me asking "do the tvs need to be here" & getting the "no prob" the AT&T U-verse guy came to install, and cannot. Ohio - 2, me - 1
3. Then, when I thought the day couldn't get any worse (see no Internet until our TV arrived, and not TVs, because if you recall - that's in the overflow truck and who knew when that would come (see foreshadowing): a rabid deer almost successfully committed suicide using my car her weapon of choice. Ohio - 3, me - 1. Since not successful maybe me - 2?
   
   Now, that was Monday, what did the rest of the week look like? 

1. It was lovely that we had movers - but it's like when you are public speaking & you don't know what to do with your hands. There's nothing I can do until they were done. I couldn't sit on the couch, that seemed weird, so I've literally walked around in circles all day.
   
   
2. When I wasn't walking around in circles, I stuck my foot in my mouth. Like when I accidentally commented on how hot it is. While a mover was balancing 3 boxes on his back & I carried a coffee & my phone.
   
   
3. Now, remember, my week started with no Internet. Since the Internet couldn’t be set up, I spent my week driving back and forth to Starbucks to fulfill some work obligations. One night, until 10 pm.  Let's just say, the people of the 'bucks  really had my well being in their hands. They SAY they gave me decaf.... but really? Who is to say?
   
   Side note: when I wasn't at Starbucks, where I saw shady ass deals going on - who knew that loan sharks did business over a venti latte machio-whats they call it? I was at Panera. One afternoon, while waiting to get on a conference call, my "friendly" neighbor dropped F bombs like it was his J O B or he wanted me to lose mine. Luckily he left right before I needed to be unmuted.
   
   
4. I ended up needing to take the remainder of the work week off, due to not having internet. Lucky to have the ability to do so? Absolutely? Irritated that I have to? Ab.so.freaking.lutely. 
   
5. Note to self/ just because you see an old crusty dryer, one shouldn't assume you can slide your new one in. Gas vs. electric apparently it's a big difference. Who knew?
   
   
6. And then, and then, this happened.  This really is the pièce de résistance. It even beat the flat tire on the brand new car as we were leaving the home we love: They.lost.our.TRUCK.
   
   Commentary: Are you freaking kidding me? I'll see your lost luggage and raise you a lost moving truck of "overflow." WHO does that EVEN happen to?
   
   
7. What's worse than a stinky diaper? One packed away & discovered days later.
   
   
8. And yes, while it took 24 hours to realize it: we realized we didn't have hot water. We had to watch a YouTube video, cause we’ve never done this before. It’s how we do.
   
   
9. I was a hott mess for days, beyond the day I didn't know we didn't have hot water. One afternoon, as I walked into Walmart it occurs to me- if I showed up on the People of Walmart site I would t be shocked.
   
   
10. And then, the day Internet installation was happening (a week. it was painful), so was Kindergarten registration. To say I was emotional?  Understatement. Then, and of course, the Internet installation guy took so long it ran up against my appointment to register.  He was blocking me. Fist in the air.
    
    Commentary: You might say, just have him move his car. Nothing, if you haven't noticed is that easy because, you see, we live ON a highway so coming in or out of the driveway is a shit show. Fine, it's not a highway, but it's close. 
    
    
11. Then there was the time I had to return to Home Depot (not close) to exchange the keys they had made for me -  because of course, they didn't work.
    
    
12. Good news? I had to go back to Home Depot anyway, so it wasn't an extra trip to get food for our guests. Bad news? The guests were a colony of ants times a million.
    
    
13. Then, days later I remember I left my beloved necklace at the hotel we were just at.
    
    Commentary: it's just recently (5 weeks in the Cleve) that I finally got the official word that it's lost/gone/stolen/thrown out. SAD.
    
    
14. Annnnnd then, our Internet went down (& Tv/phone).... Until a technician can come out. That's as short lived as it comes. We then spent DAYS with and without Internet. Wasn't it adorable when the original installation man said a wireless connection to my work computer would have no issues? God.damn.liar.
    
    Commentary: And then to add to my AT&T U-verse hatred? Apparently you have to pay for a private phone number. Since that's crazy, I didn't sign up to pay for yet another thing (like Internet/cable/phone that don't work), I started to get 8-10 solicitation calls. A day. Good news? The calls meant the phone / Internet / cable was working. Bad news? solicitation calls? For the rest of the day I wasn't battling error messages. It.Was.NOT.Awesome. I did the math: I had been a customer for 3 days and issues with service for 1 week.
    
    
    
    
15. We came to this house without a refrigerator. Cause the thing we needed most was to go up and down to the basement every time we needed the fridge. Do you have any idea how often you need to get to the fridge with two kids?
    
    
16. If I told you that the water line they installed when they did finally deliver our fridge bust & won't shut off. Would you believe me?
    
    Commentary: Water.everywhere.
    
    
17. I've told my husband every day to be careful in the driveway. Every day he tells me to relax. Within one week he swiped the side of my car into the wall.
    
    Related: based on my yelling pretty sure my neighbors think I'm crazy. Can't say I blame them. 

And that's it. That's the "short" story of our long journey to the Cleve. Crazy town? Yes. Will likely be repeated in 1-3 years? Absolutely. Will I survive it? Most likely, no.

Why I hate moving. Part I

Edit to note: I understand this is way late. It's important to our story. It's a major chapter, and may explain why Ive been so busy. This is just one week. How could I not take weeks to recover?
Now that I’ve gone all rainbows, unicorns, and happiness – let’s get down to brass tax. For any “normal” person, moving sucks. For me? The laws of “Murphy’s Law” do not apply. It’s Murphy’s Law on steroids – and the ranging violent, aggressive behavior and mood swings of steroids. Wait, is there a plus side to steroids? I digress. Here’s a list of all the shit that went down over the course of the move (give or take a week. 7 days, people, with one exception).  If you follow me on twitter, this may all be a review, but due to character limits I now have the ability to provide my commentary.

It’s like a DVD extra disc extra, get excited.

Week of September 13th – Move week

1. Move, so we start it off right, by movers pushing UP pack day. Yeah, that's not inconvenient at all.
   
   Commentary: When we moved the first time, we lived in a house with ½ the square footage as the one we moved into in St. Louis. We had 2 days to pack, 2 days to load with 4 people each day. When we were told it would take 1 day to pack and 1 day to load, we questioned this and asked, specifically (side note: word of this whole post is SPECIFICALLY) “are you sure that’s enough (insert reasoning)” and was told “more people will come.” A day before we are scheduled to have the crew arrive, they look at the paperwork and realize that they need more time.
    
2. Tuesday I get a call that the kid fell at the playground and she is swelling, fast.
   
   Commentary: While nothing was “broken” I’m fairly sure it was severely sprained – if not in that moment of falling off the monkey bars, in the daily (if not multiple times a day) falls she executed on. She wiped out, seriously, at least once a day through out the rest of this post. I am not exaggerating. Fell on wet floors, dry floors, up stairs, down stairs, flat land, into walls and doors – it.was.CRAZY.TOWN.
   
   
3. The movers arrived, and while the last round of people MOVED fast, these people were light speed. Within 4 hours, they got 98% of the house done. The second day went just as fast. They told us, while originally the move in date was the following week (Monday - Friday), they now anticipate a Saturday (the day after they leave with our stuff) move in. That’d be great, if not for the fact that we were planning on arriving into Cleveland on SUNDAY (the day after they’d be there).
   
   
4. Wake up times began at 5 am. For over a week. Perhaps this is why I wake up grouchy. This does not include JJ's sleep "schedule." See NON-schedule.
   
   
5. My schedule was so jacked up, my check list of to dos so long, one night I called and ordered dinner. Cause it was on my to do list. Issue? It was only 4pm.
   
   
6. There is a part of cluster frames, Pinterest doesn't show you.
   
   
7. Our movers apparently didn’t noticed the one year old.
   
   Commentary: How do I know? Evidence. Everywhere. Including tiny little choking hazards as far as the eye COULD see. Including pest little one year olds.
   
   
8. Our cable box cords got packed.  So for a few days, sure I was annoyed that I'd be hit with fines.  Mostly that I had no DVR or OnDemand. It felt like camping.
   
   
9. The movers came, and in addition to not thinking they will make the Saturday estimate (relief felt for approximately 1 hour) - they realize their truck is not big enough. They are going to need a bigger boat truck.
   
   
10. In the rush to pack as much as they possibly could, the first casualty of the day came in the way of the tv in our au pair’s room (22 years old). One of the movers informed us of the broken television by letting us know, “I dropped your daughter’s tv.”
    
    Commentary: I look old enough to have a 22 year old. FML.
    
    
11. The overflow truck came and the entire time - they complained. 
    
    Commentary: They didn’t realize how much stuff we had (me, in my head: dude, I’ve heard this before - that’s why you are HERE).  They didn’t have the right equipment, blah blah blah.
    
    
12. Before they left - the driver had me sign for the overflow truck. I noticed, over his shoulder two televisions still remained on my floor. At that point? He tells me he can’t take the televisions and can’t I bring it with me. To say I lost my shit, is an understatement. Homeboy did NOT know what hit him - and the cursing I did made the crew blush. The televisions found their way onto the truck. Shocking.
     
13. I tried to fix one of the many walls we holed up, and made it worse. I had to run to Home Depot hours after we should have been done in the house to work it out.
    
    
14. That night, the ball & chain took the kids and I finished cleaning the house while I broke down. Sitting in an empty room, on the floor I ate chicken cutlet leftovers (like an animal). 


15. And just, when I'm about to break? My lovely neighbors brought me over a plate of food. And I proceeded to cry. And broke.
    
    



The meal that broke me.

16. That night, the baby got ice cream ALL OVER the only sweatshirt we have for days. No dish soap, but I feel like logistically putting it in the dishwasher could work. I did, kind of.
    
    
17. More than one person (seriously, like 3 or 4) said, "You're moving to Cleveland? That SUCKS!" We were with 2 small children present.
    
    
18. We left St. Louis and immediately got a flat tire. On my brand new car. If I didn’t take a picture, I feel like it didn’t happen. Or you wouldn’t believe me, I almost don’t believe me.
    
    
19. We got to our hotel, Sunday night and was told that it is over booked and we most likely wouldn’t have a room the following night.
    
    Commentary: We did, but still. The threat was there.
    
    
20. Due to the amount of clothes we could pack (in a car with 3 adults, 2 kids, and a dog) we had to laundry at the hotel NIGHTLY.
    
    Commentary: We planned on doing it once, but for reasons beyond my control we did it NIGHTLY. One night? Someone switched my laundry for me. At a hotel. Am I so jaded I think that's more weird than nice???
    
    
21. The first morning out of St. Louis, the kids slept until 8:15 am. That was great, until we realized we switched time zones and we hadn’t slept late at all.
    
    
22. During our Indianapolis to Cleveland run, there were rest stops at every exit. At one point, the kid said she had to go to the bathroom. It was pouring rain, and no rest stops - for 20 minutes. Let’s just say, that would be our unforeseen laundry catalyst. 

Seriously. That was one week. There was more. 

NumbErs - the E is for exhausted

How do I begin to tell you where we've been and what we've been up to? I'm big on numbers, so lets let the statistics speak for itself.

• The time from when we found out the move was happening to physically being in Cleveland: 37 days. 
• This includes a weekend trip visiting the Cleve (for the 1st time, one trip driving "straight" for 12 hours): 4 days.
• The work weeks (within those 37 days = 5 weeks+) the ball & chain was working in Cleveland: 2 weeks.
• The days (within those 37 days) I was away for work in Boston: 4 days - including my baby's birthday, the first time I was ever away from her.
• If you are following the math, of the 37 days, at least one of us were not home for a collective: 20 days.
• The amount of time the movers aggravated me, 17 days - and counting.
• The weekend we moved, we drove in a car with: 3 adults, 1 dog and 2 children. 
• We traveled 585 miles in 2 days, across 4 states.
• The number of gigantic (like more than 4 stories) crosses we passed: 2. 
• We had 2 moving trucks, 1 that was lost for a few days. DAYS.
• 10 days after we moved, we traveled to the Northeast for 6 days. 
• During those 6 days, we drove 611 miles, across 4 states (never mind flying 400+ miles each way).
• Patience and understanding levels are at a solid: 0.

More, later.

Criminal Moms

I figured, might as well get this down - so when it comes time for therapy we can point to the root of the problem, quickly.

Here's how it went down. Judge for yourself, do you agree with me? I shouldn't have been provided with the opportunity to nurture and raise children.

I went upstairs to put JJ down to bed. Home girl was tired and it was time for b e d. 

Side note, just yesterday I was telling the ball & chain that while I appreciate his help at bed time I don't need it. Let this be a lesson to us all. I do need him, my children need him. He can never leave again.

As I went upstairs, L was watching something on the DVR.  She's a fan of the Big Bang Theory. And as I type it, I get it. It's not My Little Pony's or terribly appropriate, but as long as there is no blatant sex talk - she thinks it's funny and it's innocent enough.

Seriously, maybe I shouldn't be allowed to raise these kids.

When I came back down stairs, knowing what is to come - I found her terrified on the couch. At the time, I thought she was trying to stay up later.  Stall tactics. I was cold, told her to pull it together; we were not watching another episode of the Big Bang Theory.

That's when I realize, the episode she was watching on the DVR ended. As the TV does, it flips to whatever was on TV "behind" the recorded episode.

The TV was on CBS. Criminal Minds. The first 5-6 minutes (always the worst) of Criminal Minds. I'm not entirely sure how much she saw. It could have been seconds, it could have been 6 minutes. I asked her what she saw and she said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Awesome. And by awesome I mean: worst.parent.ever.

I let her watch another episode of Big Bang Theory.  I even offered a My Little Pony episode or two.

She went to bed surprisingly okay. I'm hoping she only saw seconds, maybe the first 6 minutes weren't that bad? 

I was told by a friend, that some things are better left unknown. Don't watch the first 6 minutes of the episode. I think we can all agree, I don't make the best decisions. I watched the first 6 minutes.

By minute 3 there was a woman taped to a bed and stabbed with an ice pick cut to a firing squad style execution of a man on death row. By minute 6 a second woman was walking around her house, scary music enters the scene and she thinks someone is in her closet. There wasn't anyone in her closet. Just then? A man dressed in black comes from the side, throws her on the bed, ties her up with tape, and stabs her. With (another) ice pick. 

Yup. DSS can come right over and pick up my children.  I think it's about time, at least until my husband gets home.

Trifecta Part II

Almost 4 years ago we had our first trifecta dinner party, it was fun. If you like dogs pooping in the corner.  No seriously, the people made it fun. Just like Trifecta Part Duex.

The scene: we're at a friends house. A glorious new condominium that the likes of Pinterest was created for.  After a long weekend full of 16 hour work days and a long day at the office, it was a highlight of our stay in Boston.  I'm not quite sure if by the end of the evening it was the highlight of their weekend.

To review, the characters include:

• The ball & chain - the husband.
• Yours truly - me.
• The kid - 4 year old, on the move and in vacation mode 3 days and counting at the point of the story. 
• The baby - 7 months old and unpredictable as the day is long. 
• Jez - a friend with whom despite having many differences with, you would be surprised at the amount of things we say, think, or even choose to wear on any given day that is identical. Sometimes on purpose, so what we have the same duvet cover, most times by accident. 
• Chris #6 - Jez' husband and the 6th Chris in our life. When in doubt, if you want to know what some one's name is, it's likely Chris.

Opening act:
In observing all that goes into the baby stage, especially when it comes to feeding the little bugger Chris #6 asked a puzzling question: "At what point can you sit down and eat dinner together?" The ball & chain answered confidently, "We eat dinner together every night, just about."  However that really wasn't the question.  He clarified, "When do get to use both hands?"  We laughed. I don't think it was a joke. We answered something to the effect of:"Well. L is 4 years old and we're still waiting."

The Trifecta:
We show up and JJ starts spitting up (aka vomiting) all over their glorious new bamboo floors. Note to self: bamboo sure does clean up nice and easy. That's count 1 for the trifecta. Fast forward, there is eating, drinking, and being merry. We had sous vide pork, as you do when you dine with a fancy pants chef in disguise. You didn't know what that is either, do you? About 20 minutes into the meal, the kid excuses herself. She heads to the bathroom which is dangerously close to the meal. I don't worry, but I do notice how close it is when we hear her murmur, "Wow. That bread sure is spicy."

The bread was not spicy.

We all laugh and when I ask if she needs help (parent lingo for, "Are you going to poop?") she declines and announces she just has to pee. That's 2 in the count to trifecta.

5 minutes later she gets up from the table, again, and goes to the bathroom. Someone makes a joke about the "spicy bread" and I silently hope for the best. As the adults giggle our way through dinner, the kid can hear us commenting on the effects of spicy bread and she wants to set the record straight. Despite her being able to just tell it like it is, she screams it - to make sure no one is confused.

"I'M NOT POOPING! I'M JUST FARTING!!!!"

You'd think that's 3 in the count to trifecta, but it's not. Let's call it 2.5.

On an aside? While I could have gone without the screaming like a lunatic about her flatulence, it was a proud mama moment. For years we've been telling her, rather than letting it rip at the dinner table (or any table, hall, or room for that matter), excuse yourself to the bathroom. She did it! Proud. Mama. Moment. You know who wasn't as proud? Chris #6. Homeboy was starting to loose the color in his cheeks, and I don't think it was the spicy bread.

P.S. The bread? It totally wasn't spicy.

So, post "I'M NOT POOPING! I'M JUST FARTING!!!!" we settle down and the adults continue to eat.  A few minutes later and home girl leaves the table, again, to make her way to the bathroom. Again. Let the spicy bread jokes ensue.

But then shit got real.

Literally.

"Um. I need some help. Daddy! I pooped on my leg."

That. Happened.

Chris #6 goes ghost white and I'm pretty sure his desire to procreate left the building. The ball & chain goes and helps the kid out and since we apparently have a mic in the bathroom, we could hear the whole thing.

The kid, "I just kept going to the bathroom. I wanted to look. I was curious."

Apparently the spicy bread got her, so when she went to go and look - well, she got poop on her leg. As you do. To make matters worse (because it had to get worse), she got nervous and she pulled up her pants. Awesome.

"Luckily" we were traveling with a year's worth of clothing, so the costume change was painless. The look on Chris #6's face? Not so much. 

Closing act:
We're going to San Diego in a few months. We told L all about the San Diego zoo and all the animals we'll see. We're pumped. Jez & Chris #6 just got back from Australia. L was looking through their pictures. She came up on Kola bears, as you do. Her natural and no nonsense response? "Oh you went to the San Diego zoo, too? That's nice."

So yea, we're going to Australia aka, the San Diego zoo soon - and God willing? There will be no pooping on any legs. A girl can dream. 
Forward:
The next day Jez left me a voice mail. L loved it.

"Hey it's Jez. Call me back. I pooped on my leg." 

The only issue? Since this was a favorite story to tell from place to place on our journey, L loves to tell it. It gets a big laugh. Slight issue though, she doesn't introduce the concept or set up the story.  So her version? It goes like this:

"And then Mama's friend Jez left a message. It was so funny. OK I'll tell you. 'Hey it's Jez. Call me back. I pooped on my leg!!!' And then I was in the bathroom and I said: 'I'M NOT POOPING! I'M JUST FARTING!!!!'" 

We are going to work on the story telling. It can only go up from here.

Lessons from the Road

We're back. We survived. Where left you left your superhero we were getting ready to take a trip. Scared of what was to come, not so much the visit itself on the other side of the transportation, but the journey itself to get to the visit ahead of us.

Long story short - the travel piece - went swimmingly (on the way there). It was perfection, sure there were some bumps, but the start of our trip? It was (overall) glorious.

Some interesting factoids and photographic proof of mayhem and/or above aforementioned glory?

1. Traveling alone with all that is needed on the first leg of the trip is a pain in the ass interesting. We came into the airport like bats out of hell and may or may not have taken down the "VIP" ropes. Traveling with kids means traveling like a pack mule. I had one suitcase that should fit clothing for a year, a car seat, a piece O crap stroller (that I found out in-between two boarding lines doesn't actually fold with ease), a diaper bag and a back pack. Visual b: The rope that didn't see it coming. In related news? Yea, we're starting with b. Whoops.
   
2. East coast trip = Dunkin' Donuts everywhere. Even at the gate to go to the East Coast. I run on Dunkin'. Visual a, perfection: a D&D at our gate. Oh heaven how I love you. You know what else runs?
   
3. People. They suck. Specifically when you walk toward them with a baby. The looks I got carrying that kid, you would think I had a bomb strapped to my body. The looks, the sneers, the whispering. At one point, I almost started to say to people "I know, I hope she isn't on my flight either! Am'I riiight??"
   
4. In getting on leg 1 of my trip (yes, I had to stop) the gate attendant handed me my ticket as I boarded flight whispering in my ear, "The seat next to you is empty." To which my only response could be, "God bless you." Note to self, travel tip: When getting on a flight, be sure to check your ticket for your seat assignment.  True story.
   
   After blessing the airline agent, I settled into my seat, D16. 2 carry ons and wearing the baby. Afraid for my life and those around me. A man comes up to our aisle and I think to myself, DAMN I thought that broad said this seat was empty. He informs me, I am, in fact D16, in his seat. I look at my ticket... A16. I could have sworn it was D - but whatever. I move.
   
   I cozy into A16, scared for my life, wondering what kind of hell the baby will put me through as soon as we take off because on all accounts home girl looks happy. I figure, it's the calm before the storm.
   
   2 minutes later, a new man appears. He says, I am in his seat. I look up and check, I'm in A16. My seat, so says my ticket. I get it out, to prove this yahoo wrong and hope to sweet baby hay-Zues they didn't double book my seat. I look. I SEE A16 - and show him. At which point he shows me that A16 was the gate. My seat is D13. He's happy to go sit there, instead of having me move. I kindly (think) say, "Oh that's so nice! No (f'ing way) thank you!" That empty seat next to me was MINE and I wasn't going to give it up. Despite the two time shuffle.
   
5. The baby? Was great. If she wasn't sleeping? She was smiling. Visual c.
   
6. An extra seat? It's divine.  Visual d.
   
7. By the end of the flight I wanted want to go around to all those that gave me dirty looks & go all "Big mistake. HUGE." w/ Pretty Woman gusto. She was amazing.
   
8. You know what was not amazing? The weirdo sitting next to us. He zipped himself up into his jacket. Um. Excuse me sir, but what the F?

More stories from the road, soon. I took notes on barf bags from the plane. Class act right here. Let's hope I can make sense of the rest.

Sleep Tight

Truth: I hear "only you" often. This story should be filed under "only me."


Monday night I put my babies to bed and spend my evening waiting for JJ to wake up. She always wakes up at 11, so why go to sleep before that? 11 came, and went. Midnight. See ya. And just when I said to myself, "Self - forget it. You can't wait up for her to get up. Go.To.Bed." I got a text. 

A Tornado Watch has been issued for St. Louis
county until 1/17/2012 7:00:00 AM. KSDK.com

I signed up for alerts. Great idea. Oh yeah. Sleep tight, nighty night. 


Did I mention the husband was gone? The one who wakes up when a twig breaks three yards over? He wasn't home. Me? The tornado alarm could be going off and I would sleep through it. 


Oh wait. That's (not) funny because it's true. 

I proceeded to wake up every hour on the hour - just about. At one point L started crying, I ran to the room thinking it must be the storm that is scaring her. Nope. She was twisted in her blankets. (You can thank the bad puns on not getting any sleep.)

She fell asleep quickly, but soon after I was up again because of the sounds coming from outside. If I didn't get up to see it for myself, I wouldn't have believed what was happening outside.  It was hail, but it sounded like full fledged vehicles were slamming up against the windows.

Guess what?

No one woke. Not ONE peep.

The next morning, JJ awoke refreshed and ready to attack the day. 11 hours that little B slept. 11.HOURS. For the first time in her 5 months of existence PW (post womb). Me? I was a hot mess of exhaustion but the kids? They were well freaking rested. 


Only.Me.

When Good Ideas Go Bad

Last week was our girl's birthday. It was her first birthday away from family.  We wanted it to be special. More on that, later. One of the things we did was set up some of her current favorite animals having a tea party waiting for her, after school - including a drawing on her chalkboard saying "Happy Birthday, L!" Cute idea, right? So. Cute. 

She loved it.

The next day was her first day without our au pair - she went home and of course that's sad for our girl. More on that, later.  I thought it would be special to make this something we (sometimes) do. Day two I set up the tea set again, different animals, another one sitting on the couch reading a book and changed the picture. We made it look like the troll was up to mischievous good.

The first full day without L's Annie was nothing short of a sht show.  L was sad and acting out. It was awesome (alert: that's sarcasm). There were tears (hers not mine, yet). There were time outs. There was a lot going on. We finally got out of the house (plan: 2 pm, actual departure: 4:30 pm) and before we set sail for our errands I sent C a text.

"Can you do me a favor? If you get home before us - rearrange the tea party - make them play a game or something... and add some kind of message to be a good girl and give me a damn break. Maybe she will listen to her animals."

He responded with, "On my way home - will do that as soon as I get home!"

Fast forward: it turns out a tree came down behind our neighborhood and of course our (side) of the block was affected. After L & I finished our errands, we picked up the ball & chain- went out to dinner - thinking that the electricity would be on by the time we got home (company said 8 pm).  We arrived home at 8:45 pm. Lights out. Total darkness. We spun it as an adventure! We'd all sleep in bed together, hang out - read a book by flashlight. It's just like camping! Everyone loves camping!! (Except us - we left that out) It'll be awesome!

When we came back in my dear husband thought... oh wait - let's be sure to see if the stuffed animals have been up to anything while we were gone. Yeah, nothing like a severe creep factor to add to an already scary situation for our newly but very emotional four year old. I WISH I could have taken a picture of what the scene was... in the dark... being spotlighted by a flashlight - but you can imagine it, can't you? 

(picture this in TOTAL darkness)

Nothing creepier than Rudolph & Paddington Bear going head to head in the dark in an aggressive game of Candy Land while being looked over by a fairly aggressive and threatening note sent by two sociopath trolls. Just when you think we have a great idea? We go and take it too far.

Needless to say she slept with us that night and the trolls have a new creepy factor to them, I'm not sure will wear off.

Flashbacks & Blessings

Monday night I noticed the baby’s finger was red – at closer examination it was swollen.  Her middle finger was almost hot and the red discoloration went from her first finger pad all the way down and around to the palm of her right hand. On the top of her finger, there was a puffy could be pussy little pocket of infection. I know, gross – and totally out of nowhere.  For the first time, as a parent, in almost 4 years we called the doctor “after hours.”  I think that’s a pretty good run, if I do say so myself.  We just never had the need before. And while I was sure it wasn’t life threatening, her little finger was hot and clearly infected.  The other thing that concerned me was how quickly it happened because to my recollection when I was bathing her an hour earlier, I don’t remember seeing her finger like this. 

We called the doctors office, spoke with the message center and got a call back from the pediatric nurse on call at the hospital.  I anticipated a homeopathic suggestion like epson salt or warm compress. Instead I got something to the effect of: “Run do not walk to the ER.”

Dear health professionals,

For the love of G-O-D, please refrain from using such words as: critical, imperative, complications or immediately when speaking to a parent as it relates to the seriousness of their child’s condition.

Thank you,

Parent who shat herself

I googled complications that the nurse mentioned on the phone; I fell down a google wormhole on the way to the hospital (I wasn’t driving – relax) of panic.  I did all I could to remain calm, mostly just cursing underneath my breath.  It’s scary.  They were worried how the infection and coloration was spreading (quickly) and without reason.  It wasn't started through a cut fingernail or cut on her finger.

We arrived to the ER and as promised, our name was “left at the front” so that we could quickly pass through to the Pediatric ER.  Any emergency situation is scary, but might I be so bold to say that a Pediatric specific ER top 5 scariest places on Earth?  Are we agreed? Super. Probably as scary as a… I don’t know? Let’s say a NICU?

I’m trying to keep it together. As we waited to be admitted C realized he forgot his cell phone in the car – so he left me. Our history should have told us this was a bad idea; what you may not know is whenever he leaves me (even if for a minute) in a hospital something goes awry. As I breathed through the stress of bringing my baby girl to the ER in the middle of the night, albeit 8:30 pm, I thought I was doing okay.  It’s an infection. It’s just her finger. Everything will be fine. Breathe.  As I'm thinking this I look down at my baby girl. She was sleeping soundly, if anything was wrong we'd know, she'll be fine. We'll be fine.  

Ah, how peaceful it is (before the storm). 

It's right about now we get called in. Me & my baby girl - walk through the automatic doors into the waiting room for the Pediatric ER. As we walk into the room, I notice a gorgeous aquarium wall. Breathing in the moment, I realize I can't breathe out. My breath is quite literally taken away. I can not exhale and instead I'm immediately (hysterically) crying.


By the beauty of the fish? Not quite. 




I'm having what I can only imagine is a mini panic attack.  I'm panicking and all I can see is this fish tank. The picture you see? It's not what I saw that night. It was the aquarium at Mass General Hospital. In the NICU unit L spent a month in. Sheer. Panic.

My dear husband came back.  He returned to find his previously (somewhat) sane wife now in a corner (not facing the aquarium, because well - obviously) in a pile of tears.  In the minutes he was gone, all I could do was struggle to breathe through flashbacks as I would imagine someone with PTSD would do. 

God damn f'ing fish... I thought they were supposed to be calming?

Fast forward: I pull it together and don't face the damn tank.  In terms of our "emergency"? JJ is fine. I'll spare you the details - but there was some minor blood shed, major tears lost, (another) small piece of my sanity taken and $100 for the visit.  At the end of the day? Basically homegirl had a (very aggrevated & infected) ingrown nail.

An ingrown nail.  An emotionally taxing ingrown nail.

Baby's first ER run and we were home within a few hours; nothing serious (thank God) to come of the situation - but perhaps just a quick moment and reminder of how lucky we are. A slap in the face - a reminder - what not to take for granted.

You know you are from the Northeast when...

you think it's a great idea to poke fun at the reality ahead.

We are boxes away from being totally unpacked. We haven't hung a picture yet, but we are (almost) box less (except for the boxes that hold pictures)...

Him, "I put all the extra boxes you wanted me to keep in the bomb shelter. Since we aren't using that area."
Me, "Well.. unless there is a tornado -and we need to escape."
Him, "Right, but I figured - if the house gets taken, at least we'll have boxes. L can build a fort to occupy herself OR we can use it as shelter."

As a Northeastern, we laugh (nervously) at the fate that is ahead; at some point the alarm is going to sound and we try to keep it light to avoid living in (constant) fear.  I can tell you a few things.

1) We don't really treat it like a joke, it's how we get through it. Read here: Don't worry family - when the alarms sound we will be on the move.
2) You have NOT heard a thunderstorm until you've heard a thunderstorm up in St. Louis. For real. The night before last a storm took over for 4 hours in the middle of the night. My husband, he will tell you, is the most affected. He may or may not stay up through out storms.  He says the dog is affected first, and I MIGHT give him that, but I'd also be comfortable saying they are tied for scardy pants.  Sure, the ball & chain isn't jumping in bathtubs like the dog is - but something tells me he wouldn't be against it. The kid is third up, understandably. Me? I sleep like a baby.  I barely sleep through the night, but give me a thunderstorm and snooze. I am out!
3) The Northeast's thunderstorms can best be described as the "mild salsa" to St. Louis' "Punch your throat out hot sauce" storms.
4) Stranger than strange? The storms are horrific, loud, and crazy - and then an hour later, possible a few - it's hotter than hell, the sun is out and the skies are blue. Toto, Abelle, we NOT in Kansas West Hartford, anymore.